


Stop Catching Me When I'm Trying to Fall

by Darth_Videtur



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Darth Plagueis - James Luceno, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, Galactic Republic, Gen, How else is Qui-Gon going to save everyone?, Loving the Galaxy into Submission, M/M, Or try anyway, Sith Shenanigans (Star Wars), Stubborn Sith, Subterfuge, jedi adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-06-30 11:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Videtur/pseuds/Darth_Videtur
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn meets someone rather plain, someone invisible in the Force, and someone who is going to change his galaxy, and potentially everything else. Time to wake up and corral some Sith!





	1. Hello There

“A Jedi Knight, out of his ivory tower and in a public library? Now there’s a sight one doesn’t often see.” 

Qui-Gon Jinn pulled on every moment of training he had not to jump at the amused words behind him. He turned gracefully away from the module instead, wondering who in their right mind would try to surprise a Jedi warrior, and better yet, who could actually succeed. 

He found himself staring down into a pair of bright, ice blue eyes. The face hardly matched the intensity of that gaze, narrow and unassuming and friendly, framed by curling, shoulder-length red hair styled in a way he didn’t recognize. Qui-Gon found himself staring a little too long. Thin lips crooked up in a bemused smile as the smaller man inclined his head and brought his hands together. 

“I do apologize, it was not my intention to startle you, master Jedi.” 

“Ah,” Qui-Gon finally smiled, he couldn’t help it, the man was clearly ill at ease, and he never much cared to make people nervous. It wasn’t a good look for the Jedi Order. “You did no harm….?” 

He trailed off. Reaching instinctively for the man’s Force signature, Qui-Gon blinked. Everyone had different abilities to access the Force, but this poor man… like the undisturbed glass surface of an empty lake. Hardly any “life” at all. A surge of pity filled him. What would it be like to have so few midichlorians in communion together, living without the urges and whispers of the Living Force to guide him in every step, to be forced to rely only on his limited physical senses instead?  _ Or would it be so bad, if the Dark Side didn’t beckon…. _

“Senator Palpatine, at your service.” 

The other man bowed this time as he interrupted Qui-Gon’s thoughts, head and shoulders dipping in a gracious manner. Qui-Gon studied the shock of red hair and hawkish nose and realized with genuine surprise,  _ He can’t be a day over thirty standard years…  _

“Aren’t you a little young to be a galactic senator?” 

Palpatine smiled wider. “Am I? I must inform my constituents at once, master Jedi.” 

When he realized the politician only intended to joke with him, Qui-Gon flushed under his dark beard. Politicians were not to ever be trusted, Master Dooku had told him many times while still a padawan learner. They said one thing and meant another. 

“I’m sorry,” he began to say, but Palpatine held up a slender hand. 

“Among our people, age is no measure of wisdom, but I know it is different here. I take no offense.” 

Something about that name, those words. It finally came to Qui-Gon. “You’re from Naboo.” 

“That I am.” Palpatine paused and tilted his head, curls brushing against the finely detailed brocade of his dark collar. “Is that a mark in my favor, or against?” 

“In favor.” Qui-Gon chuckled now, beginning to relax. Perhaps this politician wasn’t quite as prickly as the rest of them. Perhaps he hadn’t had enough time to get that way in the ruthless Senate chambers yet. He seemed friendly enough, and the Force whispered no warnings amid the hushed murmurings of the library’s patrons. “Naboo is a beautiful planet. I’ve visited there more than once.”

“Have you?” Palpatine’s deep voice lilted, as though he didn’t quite believe the tall Jedi. One eyebrow quirked up. “Naboo is not a major thoroughfare for the Jedi Order, I would think.” 

“No,” Qui-Gon admitted, “but I had an agricultural field trip there when I was a padawan and... “ he shrugged. “There are always missions.” 

“To the Cause,” Palpatine said. His eyes softened. He stepped closer. “And so are you here among us mere commoners on Jedi business today?” 

In his forty years of life as a Jedi, Qui-Gon had been surprised by a Force-blind individual only a handful of times. Now he would have to start counting with his other hand, thanks to this young man’s boldness. As the other moved, he caught the scent of the senator, a subtle spice that smelled strangely familiar. 

“Ruthin tea,” he blurted instead of answering the question. 

Both of Palpatine’s eyebrows shot up this time. “Pardon?” 

The tall Jedi flushed behind his dark beard. “Your cologne, it reminded me of Ruthin tea. Master Yoda drinks it often.” 

“The Master Yoda?” The senator tilted his head and spread his thin hands. “I’m honored, then. This is a blossom vine extract, from the roots to be precise. Perhaps there is a botanical relation between the two. If you can believe it, this is one of Naboo’s less extravagant indulgences. Those of us less prone to outward displays sometimes find our planet’s indulgences to be more inconveniences.”

Qui-Gon nodded, relieved that the other man showed no signs of being offended. Politicians were a sensitive group, Dook always said, ready to take offense at the slightest provocation. Perhaps this senator could tell how uncomfortable Qui-Gon was right now and taking pity on him. 

“So… did the esteemed Master Yoda send you to this library?” the younger man ventured when Qui-Gon said nothing more. He flashed a sly smile. “Forgive my prying, but one simply doesn’t encounter Jedi on a normal day. It’s very auspicious for a starting politician as myself.” 

Qui-Gon laughed, he couldn’t help it. The idea of him being some auspicious sign, well… if the Council heard that, he could imagine their reactions. He hoped Palpatine would not take it poorly.

“I’m the wrong one to consider grand by any means, Senator. I’m in trouble with the Jedi Council far more than I’m in their good graces.”  _ Not the least of which because of… no, don’t go there. Not now. Remain in the present.  _

Palpatine’s eyes widened to a comical degree. Then he looked around the library, as though he wanted to ensure no one overheard Qui-Gon. “I, ah, must confess, I’ve never heard anyone, Jedi or not, speak quite so candidly about the Order…”  _ In public where anyone could hear, _ remained unspoken by the politician, but Qui-Gon recognized that look. It was the look Master Dooku wore when he wanted to avoid a certain appearance. 

Qui-Gon considered the comparison. Dooku was ten years his elder, and Senator Palpatine at least ten years Qui-Gon’s junior, but there were already some striking similarities he could see between the two of them. Then again, his former master reminded him of a politician sometimes, the way he seemed so at home among the rich and famous of the galaxy, in the Senate hallways. Maybe he even knew Senator Palpatine. 

“You’ll find I’m about as candid as Jedi come, Senator.” 

“Well,” Palpatine hesitated, then nodded. “I can’t say I’m disappointed.” 

Qui-Gon looked at him in a new way this time.  _ Is he being flirtatious? With me?  _

Palpatine’s pale eyes… the Jedi had never seen a shade like those in a human, a breath-taking ice blue that must have easily been able to capture any object of his attentions if he wished. Qui-Gon shook his head when his thoughts wandered further:  _ who does he try to catch? _

“I’m equally pleased to have made your acquaintance, Senator,” he said. 

Palpatine’s smile widened, pleased. His slender hands clasped together. “As am I. And I must say, for all your self-deprecation, you are as talented as I for avoiding questions. We should exchange advice.” 

Qui-Gon’s eyebrows shot up. This politician was certainly tenacious. He… he liked it. Where others might have shied away, frightened or intimidated by his physical size and Jedi status, this small man before him showed no such submission. 

He found his mouth moving without his permission. 

“Strangely enough, I’m out looking for information on lightsabers,” he said.

Maybe it was the Force. Maybe it was the open surprise on the Senator’s slender face. 

Whatever it was, Qui-Gon felt something shift. 

  
  


**___________________________________________________________________**

**NOTES:**

  1. So this fic has bugged me for quite some time. I’m a Qui-Gon/Sheev shipper for a lot of reasons, but mainly Roguish Jedi + Devilish Sith = a very good and interesting time all around. And who knows, it could change everything. 
  2. This is set in 52 BBY when Palpatine is just starting his Senator position, aged 30. Qui-Gon is a Jedi Master, aged 40. Palpatine was born in 82 BBY, Qui-Gon in 92 BBY, Obi-Wan in 57 BBY, but he’s not Qui-Gon’s apprentice yet. In fact, less than a year before this, Xanatos fell to the Dark Side and left the Order from the Telosian Civil War, so Qui-Gon’s trying to avoid facing that. 
  3. Apologies for any typos/misspellings, etc. 
  4. Let me know what you guys think! I love hearing from you! 




	2. Politicians Never Mind Their Own Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon reveals a little more of his 'secret' mission, and encounters a surprising source of help.   
> One with curling red hair and sharp eyes, and an even sharper tongue.

_ Qui-Gon’s eyebrows shot up. This politician was certainly tenacious. He… he liked it. Where others might have shied away, frightened or intimidated by his physical size and Jedi status, this small man before him showed no such submission.  _

_ He found his mouth moving without his permission.  _

_ “Strangely enough, I’m out looking for information on lightsabers,” he said. _

_ Maybe it was the Force. Maybe it was the open surprise on the Senator’s slender face.  _

_ Whatever it was, Qui-Gon felt something shift.  _

“Perhaps we should start over,” Palpatine offered him a delicate smile, “with your name?” 

“Oh,” Qui-Gon said. He wasn’t like this, bumbling and uncertain.  _ What is wrong with me?  _ He straightened his spine. “I’m Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master, at your service, Senator.” That was a serious thing, Mace Windu often told him, that disapproving ripple of his eyebrow always-present when he did. Qui-Gon loved the challenge of turning it into a hoarse, disused bark of a laugh each time. 

“Qui-Gon Jinn,” Palpatine mused. “And a  _ Master.  _ Now that’s a name and title one shan’t forget easily.” 

He stepped closer to the research module and leaned in. His sharp blue eyes crossed the data readouts without reaction, then he looked up at the much taller Jedi. “Lightsaber construction research in a Coruscant public library? What could this facility possibly possess on such a topic that your own vaunted Jedi Archives do not?” 

A valid question, Qui-Gon knew. One that Mace and several others had also asked him. 

“Call it a hunch,” he said after a moment of silence between them. “The Jedi don’t know everything.” 

Palpatine’s eyes widened. “And that’s a statement not easily forgotten as well. Pardon me, but I don’t often meet Jedi openly critical of their own Order.” 

“There’s a reason for that,” Qui-Gon told him, easing to one side to let the Senator see the readouts more clearly. 

Palpatine waited. Then he smiled, a polite thing, as though he did not understand. “And… the reason being?” 

“I don’t think it’s best to go into that here,” Qui-Gon glanced at the motley collections of library patrons around them. 

“Ah.” With a dip of his aristocratic red head, the Senator demurred, and extended one hand toward the nearest pathway leading deeper into the library’s recesses. An impudent smile played around his thin lips, not quite daring to fully appear. “We must all consider our reputations from time to time. Might I suggest a brief excursion where we can discuss matters with more... privacy?” 

Palpatine turned and walked away, nearly soundless but for the soft swish of his robes and as though he expected the Jedi to follow him without a second thought. His intricately tied shoulder-length braid of red hair swayed lightly from side to side as he walked, a few stubborn curls rebelling from the rest. Qui-Gon was not, by nature, a suspicious or paranoid man, but the ease with which the other had inserted himself into Qui-Gon’s small mission proved startling. This was why he did not care for politicians. They had you agreeing to things you never thought up. 

Dooku often chuckled at him over that observation.  _ Oh, you thought it, they just possess excellent skills in digging it out of you, Qui-Gon. Force forbid a Force-sensitive senator ever walks among us someday, they have enough senses honed as it is.  _

Qui-Gon stared at the senator’s retreating back. What senses did Sheev Palpatine hone on the people around him when he was not attending his duties in the Senate Building, and which sense was he now attempting to hone on a wandering Jedi master? 

And why? 

“Master Jinn?” 

Pausing his thoughts, Qui-Gon looked up to see the senator turned in the walkway, gazing back at him, one eyebrow lifted in quizzical patience. Still, nothing in the Force stirred around the slender man, as though he were a steady rock in a stream of leaping water.

For a moment, Qui-Gon considered calling it off then and there. A senator had no business with Jedi matters, and a Jedi had nothing in common with a politician, especially a Force-blind one. He reached out, into the flow of the Living Force, and looked for his answer, as he always did, after everything that had happened. 

It came to him instantly. Startling. Sharp. 

_ Follow him.  _

_ Are you sure?  _ The Force never appreciated back-talk.  _ Live in  _ this  _ moment and follow him.  _ Qui-Gon stepped away from the kiosk and strode down the pathway toward the much smaller man, whose expression softened into a pleased smile at the result. The sight was not unpleasing to the Jedi master, either. 

Yet, just because the Force instructed his movements did not mean Qui-Gon had to enter a situation completely blind. He tilted his head as he approached. 

“Do you not have your own matters to attend, Senator?” 

“Of course I do,” Palpatine grinned, clasping his hands together. “I’m evading them, and quite frankly, lightsabers have always fascinated me. I’m a bit of an admirer of them. Academically. What exactly are we looking for?” 

Qui-Gon took a moment to form his reply. When he spoke, his voice stayed low and hushed. “I am trying to research the impact of using the Dark Side of the Force on a lightsaber’s construction and performance over time.” 

Pale eyes instantly sharpened. “And the Jedi Archives would be loathe to include such study in their records?”

“No,” Qui-Gon admitted. “We have the Vaults, which are full of knowledge addressing corruption and Dark influence. But…” 

“But it comes from a certain point of view? And that one only?” 

The tall Jedi stared at the other man. “I…” 

Palpatine sighed. “Come now, Master Jinn. My tender years do not automatically bestow naivety. I will not judge you as your peers might.” 

“Let’s… let’s just say the required commentary leaves something to be desired,” Qui-Gon said at last, feeling halfway like a traitor as he said it. So he tried to further explain. “The materials we keep in the Archives are treated very… carefully. We protect them, guard them, and… interpret them.” 

“From one point of view.” 

Qui-Gon felt a twinge of guilt. “You’re rather fixed on that, aren’t you?” 

“And you  _ aren’t _ ?” Palpatine fired back, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then why are you here, Master Jinn? If not for a more… unique way to look at the matter.” 

_ Damn him, he’s onto me. How? _ Qui-Gon forced a smile and a half-bow of consideration and acceptance. “The Living Force around us dictates we are to live in the moment, Senator, and the moment has led me to you, evidently.” 

“The Force flatters me,” Palpatine showed that quick, sharp smile again. Something flickered in Qui-Gon’s guts at the sight. Like dancing with a vine tiger, claws out. Dancing with a blindfold. This was reckless… 

_ Follow him.  _

“You’re the only one I’ve told,” he warned the politician bluntly. “If word of this gets out, I’ll know who exactly was responsible.” 

“Oh, I’m very good at keeping secrets.” 

Qui-Gon took in the pale blue eyes that still regarded him with patient, amused warmth, and thought to himself that, yes, this man was probably very good at keeping secrets. “Well, then? Can you help me?” 

“Straight to the point, aren’t you,” Palpatine marveled, and his smile widened when Qui-Gon opened his mouth. “That’s a good thing, Master Jinn. Refreshing actually, considering what I must deal with on a daily basis. It may take some getting used to, that’s all.” He turned to his right and stepped down one of the many rows of holodata, gesturing for the Jedi to follow him. 

Qui-Gon kept his voice low as they walked. “I believe the Senate would be better off with more straight talk.” 

“I’m not sure anyone wants a senator telling them what they really think,” Palpatine’s thin lips twisted up. “Too frightening.” 

“Or perhaps they’ve evaded answering questions for so long, they’ve only forgotten how to do so.” 

Palpatine showed him a decidedly entertained smile. “Have we?” 

Qui-Gon surprised himself with his own laugh. He winced at a glare from a passing Twi’lek library patron. “I think there are two things a senator enjoys, taxes and committees, and he forgets everything he knows about them when someone wants an answer.” 

“An intriguing thought,” Palpatine said, “and one worthy of consideration, as it would save a great deal of time if I could conveniently forget things. Although for my part, I hardly enjoy committees.” 

“You’re a rare breed, then.” 

“Perhaps so. Here,” Palpatine turned again, to the left this time down a thinner path that eventually turned into a locked and coded door at the end of a long string of holodata files. He laid his slender hand over the identification panel on the right side, and it flashed green before sliding the heavy door back into the wall. The hallway within was long and descending, the walls well lit and covered in shadow boxes filled with ancient manuscripts and artifacts.

“The restricted research section,” Qui-Gon said, eyes widening. “They wouldn’t even let  _ me  _ in yet. You must come here often.”

Palpatine favored him with a sly glance. “And you may be glad of it, in the end.” 

**NOTES:**

  1. So someone has decided to be a wicked elfish troll, methinks. Qui-Gon, be careful! 
  2. Palpatine knows every library in Coruscant like the back of his aristocratic hand, let’s just leave it at that. Plagueis makes fun of him for it endlessly. 
  3. Again, I adore your reviews and thoughts, so fire away! 
  4. I'm alive. I'm going through some very rough stuff with my personal life, so updates may be very spotty. I want to keep going though. 



Story Time Frame: This is set in 52 BBY when Palpatine is just starting his Senator position, aged 30. Qui-Gon is a Jedi Knight, aged about 40. Palpatine was born in 82 BBY, Qui-Gon in 92 BBY, Obi-Wan in 57, but he’s not Qui-Gon’s apprentice yet. In fact, less than a year before this, Xanatos fell to the Dark Side and left the Order from the Telosian Civil War, so Qui-Gon’s trying to avoid facing that. 


End file.
